


Tenerife Sea

by rewmariewrites



Series: Harry Potter Shorts [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy Has Long Hair, Draco Malfoy looks bangin in a dress, Ed Sheeran gives me Harry Potter Feelings, Harry is short(er), Indian Harry Potter, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Ministry Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 12:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17386517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rewmariewrites/pseuds/rewmariewrites
Summary: Harry looks over at Draco and he’s… he’s done. Finished. He’s speechless, he’s stricken, his heart is so full that, for a moment, it’s actually hard to breathe.





	Tenerife Sea

**Author's Note:**

> so apparently Ed Sheeran is my go-to producer for Harry Potter feelings, cause first there was Happier, and now there's this, which is based off his song Tenerife Sea.
> 
> As always, if there is something that I'm trying to do (ie language or cultural traditions) that I'm not quite pulling off, let me know! I always welcome polite criticism, and it's my aim to be as inclusive and accurate as I can manage.

Harry looks over at Draco and he’s… he’s done. Finished. He’s speechless, he’s stricken, his heart is so full that, for a moment, it’s actually hard to _breathe._

 

It's not even like Draco is doing anything particularly special. They’re at a Ministry function, like so many times before and so many times again, and Draco is standing slightly off to Harry’s left, talking to some sort of politician that Harry doesn’t know and hopes he never will.

 

Draco is laughing and listening to some sort of story, sipping from the champagne flute he has in one hand, fiddling absently with the long fall of his hair with the other. He looks ethereal in the Lumos-light of whatever hall they’ve ended up in this time; he’s lit up almost entirely blue-silver, skin almost translucent in the light, sparkling and shining. His hair has grown out over the years to be even longer than Lucius’, and it drapes elegantly past his neck, down his shoulders, and back. Most importantly, he’s wearing that of silver backless contraption that always makes Harry weak at the knees.

 

The thing that makes Harry breathless, though, is so simple. It’s not the way Draco looks in that dress (a dress that, by the way, deserves at least three sonnets dedicated to the phenomenal things it does to Draco’s ass) or even the way Draco laughs (beautifully, deep and full and  _ joyous _ )  _ or _ the way he’s flushed, high up on his cheeks, from the two glasses of champagne he’s already had.

 

All Draco does is turn slightly to lock eyes with Harry in a familiar, long-suffering way, as if to say  _ no one knows anything but us,  _ and Harry is lost.

 

_ If this were the last thing I ever saw, it would be enough for me,  _ Harry thinks incredulously, body moving towards Draco before he’s even fully aware of it.  _ If I were to die right now, I would die happy. _

 

_ I’m so in love.  _ **_So_ ** _ in love. _

 

“Sorry to intrude - would you mind if I stole Draco away?” Harry interrupts the politician mid-sentence, uncaring, eyes trained on Draco. He knows that he’s probably being too intense for polite company but, well. He’s a Gryffindor through and through. When he gets an idea in his head it’s honestly hard to focus on anything else.

 

Draco flushes harder, in a way that isn’t entirely unpleased, and without looking at the politician he says, “You’ll have to excuse me Undersecretary Goswin, it seems my partner needs my attention. Do find me again later - I would love to hear your opinions on the project I’ve been working on with Hermione Granger considering combined public primary education for Muggle and Magical children.”

 

“O - of course,” the politician - Undersecretary -  _ whatever,  _ stutters, and that’s all Harry can handle before he’s whisking Draco away to a relatively quiet corner of the room.

 

Of course, there are so many things that Harry wants to say -  _ needs _ to say - that when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. Literal silence.  _ Maybe _ a slight wheeze, but nothing more.

 

Draco raises one perfect eyebrow in response. “Absolutely riveting. You truly are one of the greatest minds of our generation - it’s no wonder that men and women fall at your feet every time you open your mouth. How am I even still wearing clothes right now? Your eloquence is absolutely unparalleled.”

 

“Oh, fuck you,” Harry mutters, blushing. He looks down as he takes Draco’s champagne away and winds his dark hands through Draco’s, taking comfort in the way Draco’s long, delicate fingers feel between his own. The deep breath he takes to steel himself comes out shaky -  _ fuck,  _ this is so terrifying. Why is this so terrifying?

 

Draco’s eyes widen a little at Harry’s emotional quandary, then narrow in suspicion. “Is that why you’re all in a tizzy? You brought me over here to what - ravish me? I appreciate your boldness, but a  _ Ministry ball _ is a little public, is it not?” Draco takes a step closer until he’s basically talking into Harry’s ear, his voice low and teasing. “Besides, this outfit isn’t exactly forgiving, Harry. I couldn’t even wear underwear, never mind hide an erection.”

 

Harry damn near chokes on his tongue.  _ “No  _ \- would you - the dress is  _ sexy as hell _ but that’s not what - sweet Merlin, shut  _ up _ for a minute and let me get this out!”

 

“Well, I’m just  _ saying  _ -” Draco mutters, before Harry interrupts with,

 

“I love you.”

 

That perfect platinum eyebrow goes up again. Draco is quiet for a moment, as if waiting for Harry to continue, before asking, “Is that all? Yes, I know you do. I love you too, though only Merlin knows why.”

 

“No, it’s - I just - I realized. It’s different. I  _ love  _ you, Draco,” Harry manages, and the words feel like lead in his mouth.  _ Fuck,  _ why are words so hard?

 

The other eyebrow raises to join the first, somewhere near Draco’s hairline. “It’s… different?” 

 

“This is going to sound dumb. This is going to sound  _ so  _ dumb, and you’re probably going to make fun of me, but I have to say it, so you’re just going to have to deal with it,” Harry squeezes his eyes shut, squeezes Draco’s fingers lightly, takes a deep breath, and  _ jumps. _

 

“You look so, so beautiful in this light,” he says, voice low and rough in a way he barely recognizes. “But that’s not why I brought you over here. I brought you over here because when you look at me, all the voices in a room - any room, not just this room - fade away until I can’t hear anything but you. When you look at me, the air leaves my lungs and I am  _ weak  _ with loving you,  _ all  _ of you. Everywhere we go, any time of day, even when I hate you, I am  _ wrecked _ because of how much I love you,” Harry has to stop and take a breath here, choked-up as he is with the  _ hoperelieffear  _ mix of emotions that are stuck in his throat, and he feels rather than sees Draco lean closer, shielding Harry as much as he can from the Ministry crowds that pass only meters away. “And when I looked at you tonight - just now, actually, right before I dragged you over here - I thought: If he were the last thing I ever saw, I could die. I could die right now, and I would die  _ happy.” _

 

“Harry,” Draco whispers, one hand releasing Harry’s to cup his cheek. Harry smiles and finally, finally, looks into those beautiful grey eyes.

 

“I need you to know that that’s enough for me,” Harry emphasizes, suddenly desperate, “That, despite everything that has happened and will continue to happen, all that you are is all that I’ll ever need. I’m  _ so _ in love with you, Draco, and looking at you tonight… I knew. I didn’t know before, but I know now, and now I just need to-”

 

“Need to  _ what,”  _ Draco interrupts, and it’s so quintessentially  Draco to interrupt  _ right at this moment _ that Harry just laughs.

 

“Harry, I swear to Merlin-” Draco’s hand squeezes his own dangerously, and Harry laughs again, thickly this time, then wipes his eyes and grins.

 

“Draco, will you marry me?”

 

Draco’s jaw actually drops, his mouth forming a perfect little ‘o’, and looking at him is suddenly too much for Harry's heart to handle.

 

“I want to ask again later,  _ properly,”  _ Harry says to their feet, “I want to get a ring, I want to ask your Mum, I want to have a Nichayathartham and I want to - I want to do it  _ right,  _ but I couldn’t wait another second to ask you, so -”

 

Then the hand on his jaw is tipping his face up, and Draco is leaning down, and Draco tastes like champagne and strawberries, and somehow they’ve moved together until their bodies are flush from sternum to knee, and Draco is murmuring something against his lips, and -

 

“Wait, what?” Harry asks, pulling away reluctantly.

 

Draco chases his lips a little before catching himself, and delicately clearing his throat. 

 

“Je t’aime plus qu’hier et moins que demain,” he repeats quietly. “It’s something that... that my father used to say to my mother and I. I think I understand it, now.”

 

Harry doesn’t. He waits a moment for Draco to elaborate, but when he doesn’t… well, talking about his parents has never been easy for Draco. He’ll explain when he’s ready. 

 

“You know, you never actually answered me,” Harry murmurs, brushing another quick kiss across Draco’s lips before pulling back to look Draco in the eye.

 

The way Draco’s nose scrunches when he’s confused is _ adorable. _ “I never… Oh Merlin.  _ Oh,  _ Merlin. I never answered you.”

 

Those hands clutch at Harry again, ghosting over his hands and arms and shoulders before finally settling back on either side of his jaw. “Yes, yes I’ll marry you, you buffoon,” Draco whispers, barely able to get the words out around the smile on his face, the tears in his eyes.

 

And Harry can’t help but grin and drag Draco down into another kiss, knocking his glasses askew and burying his hands in Draco’s hair. They’re laughing and crying - though Draco will deny the tears, later - and making a general spectacle of themselves but it hardly matters. It  _ doesn’t  _ matter. 

 

_ They’re so in love. _

**Author's Note:**

> Draco says: "I love you more than I did yesterday and less than I will tomorrow."  
> A Nichayathartham, from my limited understanding, is a South Indian (Tamil?) engagement ceremony that involves the family of the couple getting married, and several ceremonies and exchanges.  
> ~  
> you can find me on tumblr at rewmariewrites.tumblr.com! I post updates abt fics, as well as reblog writing prompts.  
> Feel free to send me prompts, ask questions, anything!


End file.
